


Truest star

by kate_the_reader



Series: The season [24]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: 31 Days of Ineffables Advent Calendar Challenge 2019 (Good Omens), Ficlet, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:08:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21935731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_the_reader/pseuds/kate_the_reader
Summary: “Do I tell you often enough?” Crowley writes in a card he gives Aziraphale, “I don't think I do.”A Christmas card doesn’t often contain such a profound declaration.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: The season [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564690
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	Truest star

They start arriving at the beginning of December: cards from their new friends in the village, decorated with robins, holly, Santas, stars, the manger in Bethlehem, some kitsch, some not. Inside, “Season’s Greetings!”, “Merry Christmas!”, “Wishing you joy this Christmas” and the like, signed by the senders, sometimes with a more personal line or two. 

They don’t know most very well yet, aside from Gavin the mechanic and Marjorie who runs the library. Others are nodding acquaintances, people they meet while out walking, or in the pub, the family who run the village shop. All confirming their place in this place.

“It must be you, angel,” says Crowley, “You’re the one who’s made the effort.”

“What about Gavin?”

“Yes, I suppose Gavin is mine.”

“It’s very kind of them all. We must remember to send some next year.”

They’re getting more and more drawn into this new life, entwined with people in a way they have seldom been, in all their millennia.

The cards crowd the mantel above the unused fireplace, adding an extra layer of festive cheer to their sitting room, along with the lights and Aziraphale’s star-decked tree.

Crowley has not made a habit of writing things down, over the years. Aziraphale is the one who likes paper, and saving things, who has always made marks to remember things by.

And yet, and yet.

Crowley finds a sheet of heavy paper in Aziraphale’s desk, and a pen. He folds it in half, and writes inside, in his inelegant scrawl.

“Angel,

Do I tell you often enough?

Do I show you as much as I should?

I don’t think I do. I don’t think it would be possible to tell you as often as you deserve, to show you as much as I should, how much I love you.

You are the brightest, the truest star in my sky. You show me the way home, every day.

I love you forever,

C”

On the front, he draws a shaky star. He places it on Aziraphale’s pillow and goes down to his conservatory, where he stands looking out through the glass at the winter garden.

He doesn’t hear Aziraphale come in.

“Crowley?” There’s a catch in his voice. “My darling.” 

Crowley turns. Aziraphale is standing in the doorway, the piece of paper in his hand, tears on his beloved face. Crowley takes the three steps across the room to him, gathers him into his arms.

“Angel.”

Aziraphale presses his face into Crowley’s shoulder, the hand holding the card curled against his chest.

“My love.” His voice is muffled. “My love.”

The card will stand on his bedside table long after all the others have been put away.

_prompt: Christmas card_


End file.
